Hiding the Real Me
by HamburgerLover25
Summary: (Band AU) Dean has issues, so his therapist makes him start a 'video journal'. To get away from everything, Dean goes on a road trip, hoping to make it big time. Instead, he finds an unknown band named 'Supernatural', where the band members are just as screwed up as Dean is. And then there's Cas, the lead singer. Can they learn to love themselves as much as they love music?
1. Prologue

**Prologue: **

"So…..what? I just talk into the camera, then? That's it? Uh, okay….I'm supposed to be doing a 'video diary' for my therapist…..Jesus…this is so fucking stupid….

"…Uh…I never really found the appeal in living life normally. I couldn't see why people would want to be stuck in an office all day or in a classroom when they didn't need to be. Why would someone stay in just one place when there was an entire world out there that people haven't seen?

"My name is Dean. I'm twenty-two and I have my degree in music. I'm not a teacher, in fact, I'm unemployed. And that's the way I like it for now. I'm on my way…well, anywhere. Just anywhere besides Lawrence. I guess I'll just follow the music, right?

"Damn, well, that sounded cheesy. But I guess it's the only way I can really describe it. I've never really had any interest in anything besides music. I can't stand suits or any of that boring shit that usually comes with life. All I need is my guitar and I'm set. Just me and my guitar, man.

"I don't know what else to say….well, right now I'm currently Kentucky. I don't think I'll stay. Just hit a few bars and leave, try to find something else. Nothing is for certain, except for the fact that I'm gonna make it big.

"Yeah, I know, it sounds like something a prissy teenage girl would say, but whatever. Music is my life and if I can't live with it, then what else do I have?

"….I guess that's it. Damnit, I feel so stupid right now. I hope you're happy, Ellen."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

The sound of the impala lulled me into a stupor as I drove down Highway 31 in Kentucky. I was by Fort Knox, I guess, but I continued driving past the base gates, not exactly sure where I was going, just driving for the sake to drive. My guitar was resting inside of its case, which sat in the passenger seat where I kept a close eye on it. It was a beautiful electric guitar, black and white with brand new strings and tuned to perfection. I called it Baby, Jr.

You see, I wanted to make it. I wanted to make it to the top. Ever since I was a kid, the only thing I could focus on was music. School was just a distraction, I really only went because there were music classes I could take. So when I graduated college, I graduated at the top of my class with a degree in Music. Notes came easier to me than English, which I took as a sign. Yeah, it's childish to want to become a rock-star when you're twenty two but I couldn't ever imagine doing anything else. This was my destiny, even though I didn't believe in that bull crap.

I sighed and rolled my shoulders, feeling the stiffness from driving all day. I left Lawrence two days ago and I didn't look back. I took only what I really wanted to keep, which were my guitars, a few family photos, a duffel bag of clothes, and a hunting knife that my dad passed down to me when I was seventeen. It's some sort of family heirloom. Whatever, it was cool so I kept it. Anyway, all that stuff was in the trunk of my Impala, which I also got from my Dad, besides my guitars. Only two of them, an acoustic and Baby, Jr. And that's all I needed.

My toes began to tingle with numbness, which I took as a sign to pull over to a hotel before I fell asleep at the wheel and killed myself. I searched the road for some sort of exit when I found myself entering a small town called 'Radcliff'. First thing I see is a gas station, next to a skating park. Not too far away were a couple of sub shops, a tanning salon, a movie theatre and a few mainstream burger joints. Amiss the clutter of cultural chaos, I managed to find a decent looking motel, **_'Biffs_**** Motel'***. Too close for comfort but I had no choice.

I pulled into the parking lot and shut off my car, making sure to lock it once I stepped out to stretch my under-used legs. It felt nice to be out of the cramped space of my baby, even if it was in a shabby parking lot next to a motel that looks like it had been stained from constant Chew spit. That didn't stop me from walking up to the front desk and renting out a room for a day. The manager at the desk was a small man with too many missing teeth to be healthy and a beard that covered more than his shirt did.

"You got a girl in that there car?" He drawled, his southern accent and gruff voice sounding way too loud in the middle of the night.

"Um...no." I answered, confused.

"You got a boy?" The man raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at me, as if trying to discern a secret.

"What? No!" What the hell was wrong with this guy?

"You'd be the first in a while not to, then." The old man shrugged, pulling out a key from the drawer and handing it to me.

"What do you mean?"

"I means what I means."

The man offered no more so I quickly left and grabbed my bag from my trunk, grabbed my guitars,and hurried to my room, locking the door behind me. I took a look around the room before I went any further and slightly cringed. The room was dark with a dull red pain on the walls and a dusty looking window across from where I stood. The bed was a double, thankfully it looked freshly made, and there was a TV in front of it atop of a small dresser. I walked further into the room and opened the door to the bathroom, where I saw a small cracked tub, a sink with crusty soap, and a toilet that I wouldn't sit on if I had fifteen layers of snow suits and a can of disinfectant. Not the greatest choice of motels, but I could've done worse.

I tossed my bag onto the bed and sat down, groaning as I sank into the mattress and my muscles felt better. I wasn't tired yet, so there was no way in hell that I was going to go to sleep. I didn't really feel like turning on the TV. I saw one of my guitar cases and smiled. Reaching over, I slid it over to me and pulled out my acoustic, a beautiful golden brown with shiny silver strings and a white capo on the neck. I ran my fingers along the face, admiring the sheen when I felt the urge in my fingers. An urge I could never, _ever _deny. The urge to play.

I strummed my fingers along the strings, my calloused pads pressing down as I began to play a song I would play for Sammy when he was bored. It was a slow song, not something Sammy usually liked, but he did and I was more than happy to jam this shit out for him. He was at Stanford now, though, with his girlfriend, Jess, so he never asked me to play for him very much.

My heart sunk as I strummed the last few chords of 'Angeles'* and I thought of Sammy. We were as close as ever. Hell, even before I left Lawrence or got started seeing Ellen every week, I would visit him as much as I could. We were as close as ever. But I couldn't drag Sam in on this, on my trip. I would love to have him here, let me tell you, but he just can't be here. Ellen thought it was a bad idea, me taking a road trip to 'discover who I really am, blah, blah, therapist horse shit'. But it was probably the best idea I've ever had. And the only way she would agree to let me go was if I created a video journal for her to review once I got back. Of course she would do that.

Annoyed and slightly pissed off, I put my guitar down and snapped the rubber band on my wrist a few times. Once I had calmed down, I looked over to my bag where the video camera waited for me to make my first video. I should get started on that...I stood up and put the keys in my pocket, heading for the door and shrugging. I'll do it later. It's not like Ellen would know, anyway.

I didn't know where I was going. I'd never really been in Kentucky. As I walked away from the motel and down the sidewalk, I passed more fast food restaurants and gas stations, even a few office buildings, when I say a giant neon sign that read "Margaritas". Well, that looked fun. It would be a good idea to check that out. I changed directions and headed towards the sign, hearing the loud clatter of people inside dancing to music. There was no line, but there was a bouncer who was smaller than me, and that's saying something.

I paid my way in with no trouble and was blown away by the sheer size of the place. The room had to be as big as the entire building with a miniature stage at the back, but big enough to have all the attention. To the right of the door stood the bar with the largest collection of alcohol I had ever seen. And I had seen a LOT of alcohol. There had to be at_ least_ over 100 people in here, all dancing and grinding to the music like animals. This was my kind of party.

I made my way over to the bar and sat down, trying to get the eye of the blonde girl working the bar. She was short with long hair and bright red lipstick, wearing the apron of the club and a white shirt with name of the club above her right breast pocket, where she kept a pen. When I finally got her eye, she walked towards me and leaned against the counter. Her name tag read _Jo_.

"What can I get for you?" She shouted over the music.

"Just a beer, thanks." I smiled, giving her the cash and turning around to look at the people when something on the stage caught my eye.

A couple of guys were climbing the steps to the center of the stage and hooking up some equipment and a strange looking soundboard I had never seen before. There were four guys, about the same age as me, I guess, all with dark hair and ripped jeans. Two carried guitars and they both had black cut-off shirts on with wristbands made of leather. The one who sat at the drums was sort of goofy looking, with a little butt chin and combed brown hair. His eyes were dark but I could swear he was smirking. Then there was the lead singer.

He was taller than me, I could totally tell. His black hair has spiked and he wore tight fitting black jeans with a cut-off shirt, like the guitarists. He had a tattoo on his arm but I couldn't tell what it was from where I sat. He picked up the mic and waved a hand across his throat, telling the DJ to turn off the music.

"What's going on?" I asked Jo when she came back with my beer.

"They're going to play. Every weekend they play here. Manager likes live bands. She thinks they keep the place interesting." Jo shrugged, walking away once I had grabbed my beer.

"Hey, guys," The guy with the microphone said loudly. His voice was deep and gravelly, like he had just eaten something that didn't go down well. "My name is Castiel and we're 'Supernatural'." The crowd screamed when he paused, busting my fucking ears as I choked on my beer and Castiel just laughed into the microphone. "We aren't going to do originals today, just covers. So we'll start with Fall Out Boy, just to warm up, okay?" He smiled as the crowd cheered again. "We'll start with Thanks for the Memories."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I went back to my drink. Fall Out Boy wasn't exactly a good choice for a club like this. But as soon as I heard Castiel count down from five and the guitar started, I froze. This wasn't the song. Well, it was the song but it wasn't the song at the same time. They played the song with more energy, with a faster tempo, to make it _perfect_ for a club like this. The crowd screamed and danced. I didn't think they could get more excited. Then Castiel started singing.

I've never heard a guy sing quiet like Castiel. His voice was deep but it was rough and smooth at the same time and he had no trouble at all hitting higher notes or singing high at all. I found myself tapping my foot along and bobbing my head in time with the music. These guys were awesome!

"So how're you liking it?" A voice shouted behind me, making me jump. It was Jo and she laughed at me. "Sorry."

"It's fine. They're great!" I shouted back.

"Tell me about it. I swear, one day they'll be filling arenas if it keeps going like this."

"You think so?"

"Definitely." Another customer flagged Jo down and she smiled at me before trotting back off to her job.

They were going to make it big. They were rising stars. That's what I needed. As the guitarist shredded his solo, I looked up at Castiel, who was taking a drink of water and poured some slightly on his head to cool off. Maybe this was my chance. They could use another guitarist. I mean, to be honest, the one they have now keeps slipping up on the chords and screeching the notes.

As Cas' eyes met mine, I realized that I had been staring as I worked my way through my thoughts. He smiled and, I could've sworn, winked at me before he literally jumped back into the front of the stage and began singing into the microphone again.

This was what I wanted. To get paid for gigs like this. To have people screaming for me, fans who sang along to songs I made.

This is for me.

* * *

Hey, guys! Here's a long chapter for you! Don't be afraid to leave reviews and shoot me a message, okay? Tell me what you think and what you think will happen next! I hope you enjoyed it!

*-Biffs Motel is a real place, but I've never stayed there so don't go basing the atmosphere on this story if you ever happen to stay there while in Kentucky.

*-Jensen Ackles has actually produced a song called 'Angeles' filmed by Jared Padeleck, so I invite you all to check it out!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

I left the bar right before midnight, when the place started to get a little too crowded for my taste. I could still hear the techno music blasting from three blocks away, 'Supernatural' having left the stage a few hours earlier.

I walked down the sidewalk towards my motel, debating whether or not to stop to get something to eat. Jo told me that Rally's has a really great bacon cheeseburger, but you can't deny the classic Wendy's. Plus, Wendy's has Frosty's. With that factor, Wendy's totally fucking wins.

Smiling to myself, I crossed the street, which was surprisingly empty at this time of night on a Saturday, to the Wendy's I passed earlier on my way to the bar. Everything was so condensed in Radcliff, so small. It was kind of suffocating, if you thought about it. Which I did. And I didn't like it.

I walked into the Wendy's with my "good food mood" fading away, replaced with a feeling of exhaustion. A short girl with black hair stood at the counter, waiting for me to come closer to order. She had glasses and a small nose, probably around 17 years old.

"Hi, my name is Sarah, would you like a combo meal tonight?" Her words sounded rehearsed, an automatic response to anyone who walked in.

"Nah, not tonight, sweetheart." I smiled. "Just a bacon cheeseburger, please, and a side of large fries." Sarah giggled as she pressed the buttons, confusing me.

"Why is that funny?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"It's just," She smiled wider. "That's the same order as the guy before you." She pointed over to a row of booths where I could see a head of black, spiky hair.

Sarah walked to the back of the store, leaving me alone at the counter, not even bothering to tell me my total or collect my money. I have a strong feeling that she's not going to keep this job very long. Patting my pockets awkwardly, I slowly walked over to a booth to sit and wait, figuring I'll pay when she comes back out. If she remembers. I sat in a corner booth, a small one for two people, three away from the black haired man. He looked down at the table, hiding his face.

"So I guess you and I ordered the same thing." He said, his voice deep and somewhat familiar.

"Yeah," I chuckled. "I guess we did. Not surprising, though. Bacon cheeseburgers are the shit."

"I agree." He said, looking up, blue eyes boring into mine. "One of my favorites."

Then I realized why his voice sounded so familiar. I guess I should've been able to tell by the hair. Castiel, still in his clothes from the bar, sat in the booth, munching on his fries and what looked like to be his third cheeseburger.

"Castiel?" I asked, incredulous. I wasn't expecting to meet him, let alone actually talk at all. Castiel looked at me, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes? Do I know you?"

"Uh, well, no, not really, but I saw you perform earlier, man. You're really good." I couldn't help myself from telling him that, even if it did sound cheesy as fuck. But Castiel smiled anyways.

"Thanks. I'm not a big fan of Fall Out Boy, to be honest with you. They're talented, yes, but just not one of my favorites. But Gabriel insisted." He shrugged, going on as if I knew who Gabriel was.

"Anyway," Castiel continued after taking another bite of his burger. "What's your name?"

"Mine? It's uh, Dean." _Really? You had to hesitate on your own name, Dean? Nice going._ Shut up, Mind-Dean.

"Nice to meet you. I've never seen you at the bar before. Are you new here?" Castiel asked, ignoring my awkward silence.

"Actually, I'm just passing through."

"Well, I'm glad you were able to see one of our shows, then. I hope you enjoyed it." He smiled once more before taking another bite and shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

He was strangely polite and he talked as if he were in an important interview. It was strange, considering the kind of band he was in and where his usual gig was, according to Jo. He seemed more relaxed on stage than he does sitting in a Wendy's.

"So how long have you been performing?" I asked, attempting to make sucky-ass small talk to break the awkward silence that made me nervous.

"Ever since I was little." He answered. "But if you mean with 'Supernatural', it's only been ten months."

"So you and your friends just decided to start a band?"

"No." Castiel laughed, which was surprisingly light for a guy who sounded like him. "They're family. All of my brothers."

"Really?" I tried to imagine performing with Sammy but quickly erased that thought before I died of laughter. "You guys don't really look alike."

"Different parents, but I like to think I'm adopted. It makes me feel better."

I laughed, an actual, genuine laugh, before I saw Sarah walk out with my food. As far as I know, Wendy's didn't serve you like that, you had to get your food, but here she was, placing a tray in front of me. "Here you go!" She giggled. "Your bacon cheeseburger and large fry!" She leaned over farther and closer until I was sure she was trying to hit me with her boobs, which made my face light up like a flare. I looked down and away, not knowing exactly what to do.

"Thanks...Sarah. Here you go." I handed her a $10, seeing how she never really told me my total. She took up and winked at me, flouncing away with a swing in her hips, pausing when she passed Castiel.

"Hi, Cassie, you need a re-fill?" She smiled. She acted more natural around Castiel and didn't shove her boobs in his face.

"Naw, thanks, though, Sarah. Tell your mom I said hi."

"Okie dokie!" She saluted him and walked back to her post behind the counter, giving me one final look before she couldn't see me anymore.

Castiel looked at me with amusement in his eyes as I just stared at him. He slowly lifted up his burger, gesturing to mine, as if reminding me that, oh, hey, look, food was in front of me and to eat like the starving fucker I was!

"You know her?" I asked instead.

"Yeah, I used to babysit her." He laughed. "Don't worry, she doesn't do that, usually."

"Then...why?" I asked. I mean, sure, I was flattered, but I felt...dirty...I'm 5 years older than her! Castiel just shrugged and smiled some more.

"I guess she thinks your hot." He laughed. I chuckled along and picked up my burger, muttering something along the lines of "bitch, I'm fucking gorgeous".

I really wanted to continue talking to Castiel, but I didn't want to seem creepy or like a total wimp. I wanted to talk to him about performing and what it feels like to play on a stage. I wanted to talk about his music and see if he had any advice.

"Something on your mind?" Castiel said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What?"

"You were staring at me."

"No, I wasn't."

"Uh, yeah," Castiel laughed. "You were."

"Oh, uh..." I smiled awkwardly...again...and chuckled. "Sorry."

"It's fine. It looked like you had wanted to ask a question."

"Nothing really. I just...well, you know, I, uh...saw you perform and since I...since I want to make it big-well, I mean-" Castiel raised his hand, cutting me off with a clear of his throat.

"I cannot actually hear you from here. Do you mind if I join you?"

"Um...sure."

Castiel smiled and picked up his tray, sitting in the seat across from me. Up close, I could see what the tattoo on his arm had been. It was a symbol I had never seen before, but it looked religious so I left it alone. A strong scent of soap and cologne wafted from him, but it didn't exactly smell bad and suffocating like most did. If it had, I would've choked to death by now.

"Now what were you saying?" Castiel said, his voice quieter now that he didn't have to talk from across the room.

"I just wanted to know how you did it." I rushed, not exactly pausing between words. Damn, I feel so freaking _stupid_ right now!

"Did what?" Castiel cocked his head to the side, confused and narrowing his eyes in wonder.

"How did you manage to become apart of a kick-ass band?"

"I asked my brothers to play with me."

"I mean, how did you become successful?"

"I don't know. Gabriel says its because I'm a sex God, but I don't understand what he means."

"Um...okay. Anything else?"

"I guess its just because people like us and "Margarita's" is a popular place. The only reason we're able to get gigs there is because I went to school with Jo and her mom owns the place."

"So," My heart deflated. "You gotta know people."

"Well, obviously. Everyone knows people. It's impossible to not know people."

"Not if you were Tarzan." I suggested, going along with his train of thought.

"I don't know who that is, but if you know him, then he knows people."

"...Tarzan is a movie character."

"Oh."

He didn't know who Tarzan was? I didn't think anybody could not know who Tarzan was! Castiel was definitely a strange person, but he was also...fuck, he was also kind of interesting. He was quirky and kind of reminded me of Sam when we were growing up.

"Are you not going to eat?" Castiel said to me, pointing to my half eaten burger and untouched fries. To be honest, I had completely forgotten about them. "If not, can I have your fries?"

"What? You have, two things of them right there!"

"Yeah, but I ate them all!"

"Wha-..." I sighed. "Fine, we can split, if you want. I'm not all that hungry anymore, anyways."

"Sweet! Thanks!" Castiel smiled, reaching over to grab a handful of fries. I took a bite of my sandwich to stop the oncoming smile from nowhere. It was nice talking to someone who didn't know everything about you and knew you since you were in diapers. It was refreshing, for lack of a better word.

"So how old are you, Cas?" I said through a mouthful of burger.

"Cas?" He questioned.

"Yeah, Cas. Castiel's just a mouthful."

"I like it." He grinned. "I've never had a nickname before. Well, besides Cassie."

"Well, good...I guess."

"To answer your question, though, I'm twenty-two."

"So you're going to school, then?"

"No, I graduated early. I have a bachelors in music."

"You graduated...early? And you're only twenty-two?"

"Well, I skipped a few grades. And took a lot of advanced courses. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How old are you? Are you in school?"

"I'm twenty-two, as well. And I have an associates in music." Same age as me, but a better degree. Pft, impressive show-off.

"That's interesting! We have the same degree!"

"Well, not really."

"Eh, to me, there's not much of a difference." He shrugged before standing up. "It was nice talking to you, Dean."

"Yeah, same here."

"Maybe I'll see you around. If you stay long enough."

"Yeah, maybe."

Cas threw his garbage away and left the Wendy's leaving me alone to finish my food, which didn't take long because I didn't have any company to chat with and every time Sarah came near I pulled my phone out, pretending to have a conversation. Once I finished, I threw my trash away and gave Sarah the tray, smiling as I "talked to my doctor" on the phone. I left Wendy's feeling full and a little violated.

I walked down the sidewalk back to the motel, once again cursing everything in this town for how closed in it is, and stopped beside my car. Something was wrong. I could feel it. My Baby-Senses were going off like fireworks on the Fourth. Or like the Death-Star after Luke finished with it. Yeah...whatever. I walked in circles around her, checking for any scratches or dents, but I didn't see anything. I looked under her, but nothing was leaking or looked wrong. The tires weren't flat. The only thing left was the engine. Dread filled my gut as I walked to the front, pulled out my keys, and popped the hood. Smoke billowed out from under her and flooded my nostrils as I swung my arms around, trying to clear the air.

My engine was shot.

I was stuck here, for God knows how long until I could get it fixed.

What the Fuck, Universe?!

* * *

Here's a new chapter for people who actually stuck with this story after such a boring introduction. XD I hope you like it! Tell me what you think in the comments and I will do my best to reply! Thank you so much for reading it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this!

(A/N: Margarita's is a real place, as well. I've never been there, though, but I'm pretty sure it's a strip club. It just didn't fit the scenario here so I changed it a bit. Sorry!)


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

"How did this even happen?! Baby was completely fine when I left her!" I moaned to myself as I sat on the steps in front of the motel. I just didn't understand. There were no signs that something was wrong with the engine. I didn't see any damage to the hood so I think I can rule out that is was an evil saboteur, but the smoke still hadn't cleared all the way for me to check anything out. I mean, I'm no mechanic but I do know a little "somethin'-somethin'" about cars.

"Hey!" A voice shouted directly behind me, making me jump. "What're you doing?" I turned around and saw the dude from the front desk, the creepy guy that asked me if I had any..."guests". Great.

"My engine, man. It's shot."

"Well, can you keep it quiet? I keep gettin' complaints because of you." His southern accent grated on my ears.

"Yeah, because I can totally control how loud my fucking car is." Dean growled. _Dumbass. _"Can I borrow your phone? Mine's out of service."

"You got to pay."

"Fine." I groaned, standing up and making my way past the weirdo to the front desk where I knew the phone was. I stay in motels more than rats do. I could've come up with a better analogy but I'm too pissed off to care right now.

Behind the desk, an old fashioned telephone sat next to a computer that looked like it was from the dial-up days and a newspaper hiding a copy of '_Busty Asian Beauty's'_. Nice, guy. Very nice. The doorman grumbled as he passed me, reaching for the 'newspaper' and rubbing his face.

"Hey, what's the number?" I asked. Let me tell you, sleepy, angry doorman are nothing to joke about. He practically spewed the numbers at me as if it was physically painful. I could _see _the venom in the air and he stormed out, slamming the door to his office shut, which wasn't really effective because his office was basically a supply closet.

"Thanks, jackass." I muttered, holding the phone up to my ear, listening to the mind-numbing droning of the dial tone.

"Novak Auto Shop, this is Gabe, what can I do ya for?" Said a guy that sounded way to happy to be working this late.

"Yeah, uh, hey. My engine is completely fucked and I can't drive it anywhere. Can you send a tow truck or something?"

"Alright, whats the address, my compadre?" I read off the address to him from a note-pad that sat next to the dinosaur computer.

"'Kay, and what's your name?"

"Dean. Winchester."

"Aaaallllrrriiighty, Dean-o. I'll send out a truck. See ya!"

"Wait, wait, wait! How much is this gonna cost me, man?"

"Well, it depends on whats wrong with your car, my main man...bye."

The dial-tone sounded in my ear, the most annoying sound in fucking existence. I slammed the phone down onto the receiver and slammed my hands down on the main desk. Why did my car decide to break down now? Trying to calm down, I snapped the rubber-bands on my wrist, maybe a little hard, but I didn't really give two shits at the moment. It was suddenly very stuffy in the motel and hard to breath. I took deep breaths but it just got worse. I had to get outside. I needed fresh air.

I made my way to the front doors again, snapping away at my rubber band, and made my way to the trunk of my car, where I kept everything I have ever owned and deemed important in a small suitcase with red tape markings so I never loose it. If I loose it, I swear to God, I would murder someone. Possibly myself. _Is it even possible to murder yourself? I mean, wouldn't that just count as suicide? But does it count as murder...if you're fighting your own arm? _What the actual FUCK, Mind-Dean? I shook my head. I needed to talk to Ellen.

I pulled out my cell-phone and brought up Ellen's number on the screen and went back inside the motel to use the phone again. I put down more money to use the phone and dialed Ellen's number, hoping against hope that she would pick up.

"Hello?"

"ELLEN! Thank God you answered!"

"Dean? Is that you?"

"Yeah, yeah it's me, Ellen. Look, uh, I really need to talk to you."

"Of course, honey, you go right on ahead." She replied to me in her professional therapist voice.

"Look, I'm in Kentucky and my car broke down. I managed to get a hold of an auto-service and they said they'll be here soon."

"Okay...I'm not seeing the problem here, Dean."

"The problem, Ellen, is that I'm _freaking the fuck out!" _I whisper-shouted into the receiver. "I'm so pissed off, it's not even funny! So I went out to get my suitcase I keep in the trunk and started thinking about what I would do if I lost it, so then I started talking to myself, saying I would freaking murder someone, or myself, but that counts as suicide but then Mind-Dean said that it probably counted as murder if I fought with my hand or something and Ellen..." I took a deep breath, knowing that I was rambling nonsense. "Ellen, I can't breath and I can't calm down!"

"Okay, okay, Dean? Listen very carefully, alright?" She soothed. "Sit down and close your eyes. Take deep breaths." I didn't listen, standing in the exact same spot. "Dean, sit your ass down, now." Ellen threatened. How she knew that, I don't know, but I managed a small smile before sitting down in the doorman's chair.

"Alright, you sittin'?" She asked.

"Yeah, I am."

"Alright, Dean, listen. I know you love your car. I know your dad gave it to you and it's your pride and joy and I know how angry you might feel because it broke down on you, but you need to remember that it can be fixed. It's just an engine, and you know for a fact that they can fix it. Hell, you fixed it a hundred times yourself."

"I know, Ellen, I know that." I said in between breathes.

"Now, you said something about a...a Mind-Dean?" I could hear the concern in her voice.

"Yeah, that's just what I call it when I'm thinking. You know? Like, hey, could this be a good idea? No, not in any possible way. That's stupid shit, you know? Like that."

"So, you call your thoughts Mind-Dean?"

"If you say it that way, it sounds crazy." I heard her snort on the other end and I smiled myself. But then Ellen got serious.

"Dean, are you suicidal?"

"What? Ellen, what would make you think that?"

"Your argument with Mind-Dean, for one."

"I don't know, Ellen. The thought scared the shit out of me. That's why I'm calling you."

"Okay, so what all happened besides the car incident before you had those thoughts?"

"I walked down to this bar down the street and there was this live local band playing called 'Supernatural'. And damn Ellen, they're great. Amazing. And I thought, 'wow, look at them. Why can't that be me?' So later on, I walked down to a fast food joint to get some chow and I ran into the lead singer there, Castiel. He was cool, I guess, but all I thought was 'Why do you get this? Why can't I have this?' You know?"

"Dean, do you think that your replacing Castiel with someone else? Do you think that maybe, you're recreating what happened to you in this situation and that's why you had a panic attack?"

"What are you talking about?" I said, my voice thick. I could feel a tightness in my throat and I coughed twice to make it go away.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Dean. You told me yourself. Is this about Sam?"

"No, it's not about Sam! I'm not mad at Sam anymore, Ellen! I love Sam, okay?"

"Dean, you can still love someone but be hurt by them at the same time."

I closed my eyes and pictured the first day I ever opened up to Ellen. I had been forced to go by Charlie, a school-friend of mine, who was 'worried about my well-being' or whatever that meant.

_"Hey, Dean." The lady in front of me smiled. "How're you doin' today?"_ _"Hey...Ellen." I said, not meeting her gaze. "Fine, I guess."_ _"No, not fine, I can tell. What happened?" She scooted her chair closer to mine and forced me to look in her eyes, motherly eyes that I haven't seen since I was a kid. "You can tell me."_ _I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her so bad. But I didn't. I kept my mouth shut tight until she sighed and leaned away from me again. _ _"It's alright, you don't need to open up to me if you don't want." She paused, giving me a moment to change my mind. I didn't. "How're you and Sam getting along? Pretty good?"_ _"Yeah." I scoffed. "I wish." I hadn't meant to say that. I didn't want to say that. But I did say it and it was too late to take it back._ _"What happened, Dean?" _ _"Nothing, I swear. Sammy and I are as close as ever. I visited him a few weeks ago." Ellen narrowed her eyes at me, in a way that said 'I just figured you out, bitch'. _ _"And? What happened while you were with Sam?" I chewed my lip, debating whether I should tell her or not. I really wanted to tell Ellen, but if I opened up to her, she would just leave just like everyone else and it would be pointless. _ _"He's still at Stanford...with Jess." I chuckled dryly. "Jess was out of the house. It was just Sam and I. We started talking about Mom and Dad and growing up...and that's when we started to argue. I didn't expect to argue. But then Sam had to tell me that Dad is paying for Sam's collage." My fists tightened and I ground my teeth together. _ _"Why is that a bad thing?"_ _"BECAUSE!" I shouted, slamming my fists down. "Dad never did jack SHIT for me! I had to look out for myself, by myself, and I had to take care of Sammy! He was never there! Ever since Mom died, he's never been there! He's belittled me my whole life! Made me feel worthless, treated me like I was some shitty-faced lap-dog who follows his every command! I did everything, EVERYTHING that man told me to do! And he kicks me out in a drunken rage and showers Sammy praise and treats him like he's human! Why am I different? Why can't I be Sam? I don't deserve this! WHAT DO I HAVE TO FUCKING DO? Now he's paying for Sammy's collage and when I needed help, he tossed me out on the streets! Why can't he just give me a fucking chance? I can make him proud, I know it, but all he does is pay attention to Sammy!"_ _"Dean, I need you to calm d-"_ _"I'M TIRED OF BEING FUCKING CALM!" I yelled, jumping up out of the seat. I kicked the chair over, I punched the wall until my knuckles were bloody. "I want him to notice me! I will make him notice me! I-I'm going to use my music and I'm going to become so fucking rich off of it, he'll be begging me for money! I'm going to make money off of the very same thing he took from me!" I punched the wall again. "You can't make it, Dean." I barked out, imitating Dad's voice. "You don't have the fucking guts." I punched. "You can't do it." I punched. "Be more like Sammy, why can't you be Sammy?" I kicked. "WHY! WHY ARE YOU SO WORTHLESS?!" I pulled back to punch again but I felt a soft hand grip my wrist tight. _ _ I turned around and looked into Ellen's eyes, emotions there that I didn't understand. She pulled my fists down and slowly uncurled them, smoothing then flat and lead me over to the chair that I had knocked over, that she apparently picked up. I sat down, not taking my eyes off of Ellen, watching as she pulled her chair next to mine and held my hands. She said nothing. She did nothing but hold my hands. I didn't understand why she was doing it but I continued to look at her, my heart racing still from the anger and my muscles stiff. She smiled._ _ That's all it took. I could feel the tears coming to my eyes, and I fought hard to push them back, but I've been pushing them back for almost seventeen years, and I couldn't do it anymore. I've told Ellen, a woman I've only known for three months, something I've never told anyone before, even things that I hadn't realized until just now. And as I sat there, thinking about everything, the tears rolled down my cheeks in tendrils. Ellen didn't reach to dry them off and neither did I. I've never cried in front of another person. _ _"Ellen..."I croaked. "I need to become important. I can't live like this anymore. All I do is watch after Sam and now he doesn't even want me around anymore."_ _"Why do you say that, Dean? Is that what Sam said when you had your argument?"_ _"Sam said..." I hiccuped. Dear God, that's a first. "Sam said that I didn't deserve anything from Dad. I'm the black sheep of the family and there's not a fucking damn thing I can do about it."_ _"Dean, I don't think Sam meant it. When people are upset, they say things that they don't mean."_ _"Oh, really?" I snapped. "'Cause he seemed really fucking convincing."_ _"Dean, even if he did mean it, he was wrong. You are important. You matter to people. You can make a difference."_ _"How? Huh? I'm in freaking Lawrence! There's nothing here for me!"_ _"What about Charlie? She brought you here because she was worried about you and she wanted you to get better. You've been getting into fights almost every night. You drink more often than usual."_ _"I haven't had a drink in three weeks." I growled. _ _"See? That's good, isn't it? That's something we should celebrate, Dean. That's something that you have accomplished."_ _ I was shocked. She wanted to celebrate me not being a drunk for two weeks?No one has ever done that before. It didn't seem like a thing to celebrate, to be honest. _ _"Dean, let me tell you something. You may do a lot, but that doesn't mean that life isn't going to be hard. You raised Sam, didn't you?"_ _"Well, yeah, but-"_ _"And where is Sam right now?"_ _"At college, but-"_ _"Exactly!" Ellen pointed at me. "How can you believe you are worthless if you have raised such a wonderful person? Yeah, you and Sam have your tiffs, but you're family. That's what family does. What would Sam be like if you hadn't been there? You can do whatever you want to, Dean. I know you. I've seen the potential you have. Remember how you told me that you played at your cousin's prom? Remember how good you said you felt? You can do it, Dean, but you have to believe in yourself and stop letting what other people say define who you are. And yeah, I know that sounds cheesy, but that's exactly what you're doing, son. And if you ever feel like no one believes in you, remember who I am and that I do."_ _"Ellen...I-I don't know how to respond to that..."_ _"You don't need to, Dean. Just tell me that's what you'll do, okay?" Ellen smiled at me again and squeezed my hands, swollen from the walls. "Would you like me to tell you what I've diagnosed you with? It sometimes helps to put a name to what makes you scared."_ _"I'm not fucking scared." I denied, looking down. "But if it makes you feel better to tell me, then go ahead." Ellen laughed and patted my shoulder. _ _"Dean, you have extreme anger issues. We need to work on that, okay? You can't go tearing down buildings whenever you're upset. From what you've told me before, from your sleeping patterns and your feelings on things in your life, like being detached and numb, I would say that you are depressed as well. And you know what, Dean?" She pushed my head back up and smiled wider. "That's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. You aren't alone in the world. Millions of people are going through the exact same turmoil as you are, which means it might just be easier to make you feel better."_ _"So, what? Are you going to put me on pills now? Keep an eye on me in case I try to jump off a building?" I scoffed. _ _"Normally, I would. I would give you Zoloft, maybe. Or Bupropian. They take away the grogginess that you feel in your life. They help stimulate you so you fell better than you do now. Because the only thing that's wrong is a chemical imbalance. And would you believe, boy, almost everyone has some sort of chemical imbalance in the brain. I like to believe that's what makes people so unique and unpredictable. do you want me to prescribe you those medicines?"_ _ I almost flat out refused, but then I thought of Charlie, I thought of how worried she looked when she brought me here for the first time, how every day when she sees me, a look of relief passes through her features before its gone again. Maybe...maybe the pain I'm feeling affects other people, too. So, to get better, I could take the medicine. _ _"Sure." I said. "Give them to me. Can't hurt to try."_ _"Good, and as for the anger issues, here is your medicine." She reached into her pocket and shoved her fist into my hand, placing a small and skinny item there before removing her hand. I looked down and saw...a rubber-band?_ _"What the hell is this?" _ _"Whenever you feel mad or pissed, snap it on your wrist. It helps, trust me. I did it. Hell, I still do sometimes." _ _"Ellen, you've been holding back on me!" I teased, my cheeks feeling tight from the drying tears. "Oh, if you tell anyone I cried, I will destroy your career." Ellen laughed before waving it off. _

I trust Ellen more than anyone right now. If it wasn't for her, I would be the exact same way I was then. It wasn't long after that session before I decided to take a trip, visit different parts of the country, and see what happens.

"You're right, Ellen." I sighed. "I forgot." I didn't need to tell her. She knew what I meant.

"It'll be okay, Dean. Promise. How're you feeling, son?" I took a minute to breath before I answered her.

"Honestly? I feel a lot better now. Thanks."

"You don't want to kill anyone, do you?"

"Of course not!" I scoffed, hearing a laugh on the other side.

"And you don't want to kill yourself, right?" I hesitated before I answered. I actually had to think about the question.

"No, I don't want to kill myself. But I feel like there's a hole in my chest, Ellen. I don't know what it means."

"It could be many things, Dean, but that's one thing that I can't help you with. I can only take you part of the way, son, the rest, you'll have to do on your own."

"Alright, Ghandi." I said. "Thanks, Ellen. For everything."

"It's a pleasure, Dean. Call me whenever you need someone."

"I will. Bye, Ellen."

"Bye, Dean."

I hung up with a dull _thunk! _resounding through the empty room. Ellen always had a way to make me feel better. She was like the mom I didn't get to have. I grabbed my suitcase and made my way back to my room. Shoving the case underneath one of the beds, I made sure everything was secured, my guitars in their cases. I left, locking the room and putting the keys in my pocket as I made my way to my Baby. How long did it usually take for a tow truck to arrive? I guess I should've asked how long they'd be, but I forgot to ask in my current state.

As soon as I stepped outside the door, a blue tow truck pulled into the parking lot, making its way to the front door, parking there before a man taller than me jumped out of the drivers side. He was looking down so I couldn't see his face, but something about him looked familiar.

"Someone call for a tow truck?" A deep voice rumbled.

"Cas?" I announced, incredulous. He looked up and once again, those piercing blue eyes froze me to the spot.

"Dean?"

* * *

Holy Crap, I was not expecting to write this much! I just wanted you to get the background story! I'm sorry if this triggers anything for anyone, I honestly didn't mean it, but this is just how I perceive John acting if this were their life. I mean, he was obviously devastated about Mary, but he didn't get into hunting, he just threw himself into his work and drowned out his problems with alcohol, seeing as John drinking was a regular occurrence on the show, which is passed down to his sons.

Tell me what you think and whether or not you liked it! Reviews are highly welcomed and I will respond, if I have the chance! So don't be afraid to say anything! This story is going to be much longer than I had originally anticipated. Which means you get to look forward to much character development, possible plot holes, and me failing at this story! :-D

Enjoy!


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